


It's Easy Being With You

by Chaosride



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Choking, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, There's cuddling, and SMUT, mandatory tent sharing fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 12:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3810430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaosride/pseuds/Chaosride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew Adaar was always up to something, but he didn't expect this. Dorian just wanted to go sleep after trampling all over, in his own tent, thank you very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Easy Being With You

**Author's Note:**

> Partially inspired by a tumblr post about how there isn't enough tent cuddling fics, so I tried. There's still smut because I am weak.

Dorian was a creature of pride; he was an altus, a member of the Inquisition. He demanded respect. And Bull understood that. He had never pushed him except in the bedroom, had let him make the decision for them to come out be Dorian’s idea.

The Inquisitor wasn’t always as perceptive, or maybe she was. Bull still hadn’t completely figured her out.  
\---  
The Storm Coast was already a miserable place, but of course they got stuck running around chasing Venatori in the middle of a hurricane. Bull never really minded where they went for missions as long as he got to kill stuff, but he even was already ready to be back at Skyhold. Dorian wasn’t as easily pleased as he was, but beyond being grouchy and short, he shivered and trudged along in slience.

Dorian hated it there, and Bull knew it. It was too wet, and too many rocky slopes that they slipped and slid down, and he hated sleeping in tents on squishy, muddy ground. So, of course, he wasn’t particularly happy when they finally got to camp, sore and tired, only to find they were short two tents.

“Oh, I figured you and Bull would just share. You share his bed all the time now anyway.” Adaar said, raising an eyebrow. “Sera and I are sharing too. It takes up less space.”

Dorian opened his mouth, ready to argue. Being open about being in a relationship with Bull didn’t mean that she was allowed to make decisions like that for him, thank you very much.

A large, familiar hand touched the small of his back, radiating through his sodden clothes and into his chilled skill. Dorian wished his had the mana to at least cast a drying spell. Adaar watched him with her too knowing eyes. (And yeah, okay, they probably would have ended up in the same tent anyway, but that was only because Bull radiated heat. And he gave good head, but that was beside the point. Dorian had taken so many potions to keep going through the fucking ogre they had faced down that his mouth still tasted like the Fade, and his blood felt like it was fizzling and popping with exhaustion, he wouldn’t be able to warm himself up for at least a few hours.)

“Before you two go at it, we should all at least change.” Bull said, his normally loud voice dropped down to a rumble that felt like it was vibrating in Dorian’s lungs.

He knew he had lost the argument as soon as he went with Bull into their appointed tent; he was exhausted and the anger had already left him. All he wanted to do was curl up against his lover’s side and sleep for as long as he could manage.

Adaar smirked at him when he gave a last glance over his shoulder. He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out. It would probably come across as childish. (And, you know, his moustache was stiff with sweat and saltwater. Gross.)

They changed in silence, Dorian chuckling at Bull as he struggled out of his brace, and Bull full out laughing when his numb fingers couldn’t open the buckles on his shirt.

“You all good, kadan?” He asked, tilting his head. Dorian was admittedly a little afraid that his horns would rip the canvas of their tent, and then they wouldn’t even be dry while they slept.

“I’m… fine.” He was too tired to even try to elaborate or throw snark. He didn’t understand why now, their last night on the coast, after sleeping at a different camp further inland, they were just now sharing a tent. Adaar did things at her pace and with her own logic that was for sure. He was also a little tongue tied anyway, Bull calling him kadan always had that effect on him. (It tended to melt him into a little puddle of love struck mage, in good weather or not.)

“C’mere, let me see if I can work those buckles.”

Dorian usually at least pretended he had the dignity to undress himself unless sex is involved, but he shuffled over and let the Qunari undo the tricky fastenings for him.

When they slept together, actually slept together instead of collapsing together after sex, they always started out apart from each other, not touching anywhere beyond their hands, but their tent was too small to allow for that. Instead, they fell asleep touching from their fingertips all the way up to their shoulders.

Dorian fell asleep with Bull’s breath whooshing in his ear and his heat seeping into him.  
\---  
He woke up a few hours later, nose smushed against a grey shoulder, too warm.

“Hey, you lummox.” He whispered, poking at his chest. “I’m hot.”

“Hell yeah you are.” Bull rumbled, and Dorian couldn’t help the laugh that escaped against his shoulder.

“No, really, hot. Let me go.”

“Oh, alright.” Bull let go of him so could roll away. His hand stayed on Dorian’s hip though and he settled his own over it once he settled more comfortably on his side, knotting their fingers together. Bull was asleep again in two seconds flat.

(Dorian resisted the urge to wake him back up just to tell him how fast he fell asleep; it had to be a new record. It was a close thing. He squeezed the large hand under his instead.)  
\---  
He woke up closer to dawn, back pressed up against Bull’s chest. He could tell Bull was awake, by his breathing and the hands that had crept under his sleep clothes, thumbs rubbing mesmerizingly lazy circles on his hipbones. Dorian pressed his hips back into the warm cradle of Bull’s body, smirking some at the morning wood that pressed back against his lower back.

“You are very hard.” Dorian whispered, rocking back again, teasing. He tilted his head some when Bull started pressing kisses to his throat, a hand sliding up to push his shirt out of the way.

“Good morning,” Bull greeted sarcastically.

“I don’t think we,” fingers closed around his nipple and a gasp was punched out of him. “Should do this here, Bull.” He struggled to finish. He tried to wriggle away, but instead he just ended up writhing against Bull.

“Why not? Boss and Sera went at it earlier. Sera’s a lot louder than you. Or, at least louder than you when we do tame shit.” It was saying something to how tired he had been that they hadn’t woken him up with their noise but they had woken Bull up. Bull sounded hopeful about tame stuff and Dorian smiled fondly.

“Well, I’m definitely not letting you tie me up here.”

“Mmm, but I could gag you.” Another gasp, breathier than the last, escaped, as he was palmed through his thin cotton pants. “If you’re worried about being loud.”

He scoffed, or something like it, despite feeling fuzzy and foggy, and retorted as haughtily as he could manage. “I have the self control to be quiet, thank you. I’m not a heathen like you.”

Bull laughed, a gust of wind over his ear, across his cheek, and Dorian didn’t even care enough to complain about morning breath. He shoved a hand down his pants, wrapping a callous rough hand around his dick. His other hand slid up to grip the mage’s throat. His grip was light, a weight more than anything. A question.

“This good, kadan?”

“Am I saying katoh?”

“Fair enough.” 

Bull squeezed, lightly at first but then adding more pressure, and Dorian let his head loll back. His hips were already moving in circles, going from pressing against Bull’s hard length to fucking his fist and back again. 

A high keening whine left his throat when the hand around his throat tightened a little more, cutting off his air as Bull rutted against him, hips snapping against the curve of his ass.

The hand left his throat and he was left reeling, light headed and still desperately moving against his lover as the Qunari pulled his own pants down behind him. 

“As soon as we get back to Skyhold, I’m going to fuck you real good. Make you cry for me again.” Bull growled as his hand came back up to his neck, dick hot and wet where it was sliding between his cheeks. Dorian knew, vaguely, that they didn’t have any oil and so he couldn’t get fucked yet, and this was definitely working, but Maker he wanted to get fucked.

When Bull tightened his hand again, Dorian spasmed against him, “close,” he gasped, and Bull took the queue to ease off so he could breath for a moment. “So close.”

“Come on then.” Bull ordered, squeezing again when Dorian had sucked in a lungful or two of air. His hips moved harder and faster, hand pumping Dorian’s cock faster too. The rhythm was off just enough that it was maddening.

Dorian went still, fingers grappling for a hold on his lover’s arm, toes curling so hard he was sure they would be cramped afterwards. The world melted away to just radiating pleasure, Bull’s voice, and the sound of the rain bouncing off their tent.

When he came back to himself, Bull was panting against his cheek, his stomach and his back both sticky with drying cum. He was pretty much plastered to the mercenary, and all the blood was pounding in his temples as it left his groin.

Bull tugged their pants back up, using his shirt form the day before to mop up their mess as best as he could.

“We should share a tent more often.” He said finally, voice soft and at ease as he ran his hand up and down Dorian’s ribs soothingly.

Dorian grinned, already agreeing in his head.


End file.
